


The Fracture

by moirasrosesroses



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Broken Bones, Husbands, M/M, Post-Canon, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moirasrosesroses/pseuds/moirasrosesroses
Summary: Patrick is not as careful as he should be and ends up paying the price with a broken bone.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 7
Kudos: 93





	The Fracture

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my very dear friend noheckintouch for your help and advice. 
> 
> And of course thank you as always for your comments too! :) I can't tell you how much they mean to me. 
> 
> Also, I have personally never broken a bone before so have zero actual clue what doctors do for it. In other words, don't take this story as actual medical advice ha

“Oh my god!” David yelled to the empty kitchen. He knew Patrick was doing yard work outside, but he hadn’t expected to see Patrick on the roof of their garage, casually grabbing a stick and tossing it to the ground. He set down the glass he had been filling with water at the sink and ran out the back door. 

“Patrick!” he yelled, trying his best not to alarm him while he was… now  _ leaning over the edge to get leaves out of the gutter _ .

“Patrick, what are you doing?” he shouted again as he got closer. 

“David!” Patrick lifted his head and smiled. “I’m just cleaning the gutters and there was this stick on the roof, so I pulled it down.”

David waved his hands in the air. “Can you do it from the ladder, please?” He was trying not to sound too desperate, but seeing Patrick like this was making his chest squeeze with anxiety. 

Patrick tossed a pile of wet leaves to the ground. “I’m fine, David,” Patrick said, trying to pass it off. “Really. And this way I don’t have to keep moving the ladder.” 

David clenched his jaw and let out a long sigh. If Patrick didn’t want to listen to him, there wasn’t much he could do about it short of going up on the roof and dragging him down. “Fine,” he snapped. “But if you break a leg, you can drive yourself to the hospital.”

“That sounds like a fair deal,” Patrick chuckled and glanced up to see David walking away in a huff. 

David shut the back door hard and did his best not to look out the window again. He stalked to their bedroom where a laundry basket was waiting with clean clothes to be folded. Taking out one of Patrick’s dress shirts, he unrolled the sleeves that Patrick  _ never _ unrolled before putting in the hamper. He had told Patrick to unroll them before putting his shirts in the hamper, but he always seemed to forget at least one and then the sleeves were all wrinkled when they came out of the wash. 

Normally, David might have been nice and ironed it for him, but not today. “He can just deal,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

He continued folding Patrick’s plain t-shirts he used for working out and sleeping, making neat piles on their bed. 

“Hey, David?” he heard Patrick’s voice from downstairs. 

_ Good, he’s finally off that fucking roof _ , he thought. “Up here!” David yelled. 

The stairs creaked as Patrick walked up to where he was in their bedroom. David sourly continued to fold clothes, still frustrated Patrick hadn’t listened to him. 

“So, you know how you said you wouldn’t drive me to the emergency room if I broke my leg?” Patrick’s voice broke the silence as he walked into the bedroom. 

David’s head sharply swiveled from the t-shirt he was holding to see Patrick standing in the doorway, clutching his left arm tightly. 

“Would you drive me if I broke my arm though?” Patrick asked hesitantly. 

“What the fuck happened?” David asked sharply. Without a second thought, he dropped the shirt he was holding and rushed to where Patrick was standing. 

“I think I broke my arm,” Patrick repeated with a small chuckle. “Because it hurts like hell.” He held his arm out slightly for David to see the distinct abnormal bump near his wrist.

David was finding no amusement in the situation. “No, I meant, how did this happen?” He rushed Patrick out of the room and down the stairs. 

“I fell.” Patrick meant to leave it at that, but once they reached the bottom of the stairs he could tell by David’s expression that wasn’t enough. “I fell off the roof of the garage,” he said quietly. 

“I told you not to go on the fucking roof!” David huffed, searching wildly for the car keys. He glanced behind him at Patrick who was clutching tightly to his forearm and wincing from the pain, his eyes soft and watery. Suddenly feeling guilty for lecturing Patrick when he clearly knew that it was a stupid thing to do, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves and said softly, “I’m sorry. I’m just getting the keys grabbing your wallet and then I’ll drive like hell getting there, okay?”

Patrick nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Sorry, David. You were right,” he murmured softly. 

“I know,” David scolded, still slightly frustrated that this was happening at all. Grabbing the keys from the key bowl and Patrick’s wallet from the side table in the entrance, he ushered Patrick out the door and locked the door behind him as Patrick headed towards the car. 

“David, I can buckle myself in,” Patrick weakly protested as David leaned across him to buckle the seat belt in. 

“No, no,” David fretted. “We’re doing this my way,” he said. 

Patrick sighed, but realized it was completely futile to argue with him at this point. 

David climbed into the driver seat and said a silent prayer to no one in particular that Patrick’s car would start first time for once. David let out a sigh of relief as the car came to life on the first try. 

Patrick fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt sleeve as David drove in silence to the hospital. He peeked at David and could tell he was clenching his jaw, probably trying to stop himself from scolding Patrick further. 

“David, I’m really sorry,” Patrick tried to break the silence. He didn’t want to sit in the heavy silence of the car for the rest of the 30 minute drive. 

“Hey,” David said softly. “It’s okay.” He reached over and squeezed Patrick’s knee. “We’ll get this taken care of. It could have been so much worse.” 

Patrick nodded. David was right. It was a stupid thing to do, but he had felt so confident and stable while he was up there that it didn’t seem like he could fall so easily. 

“Can you tell me what happened now, please?” David asked quietly. 

“I leaned forward just a  _ little _ bit too much and…” he paused. “Then I couldn’t stop myself from falling forward. I tried to catch myself but I landed in the raspberry bush on my arm.” 

David took a deep breath as if he were swallowing yet another lecture about how Patrick should have listened to him. “Did you get hurt anywhere else?”

“Just some scrapes here and there I think,” Patrick admitted. “I don’t know, I was focused on the broken arm.”

“Hmm,” David hummed, taking in the information and clutching the steering wheel tightly. 

Patrick chewed his lip trying to focus on anything else but the pain radiating from his forearm. Every jostle of the car seemed to send new shots of pain through his entire body. 

“Sorry, baby,” David said gently. “I’m trying to avoid the potholes. We’re almost there.” 

Patrick gritted his teeth. “Okay,” he said through a sharp breath. 

“Honey,” David breathed worriedly. “Take some deep breaths with me, okay?” David let out an exaggerated exhale then loudly inhaled. Repeating it again, he peeked to make sure that Patrick was following along. 

His eyes were squeezed shut, but he seemed to be following what David was telling him to do. He repeated the breathing exercise a few more times before turning into the drive of the hospital. 

Finding a parking spot as close as he could, he stopped the car and turned towards Patrick. “I’m going to come around to your side and unbuckle you, okay? Don’t try to do it yourself.”

Patrick nodded, his eyes still squeezed shut. “Okay,” he whispered. 

David scrambled out the car and rushed to the passenger side. Leaning over Patrick again to unbuckle the seatbelt, he did his best to not touch any part of him in case he accidentally hurt him more. “Let’s go, Patrick,” David said, standing to the side so Patrick could get out of the car. “Do you need help getting out?”

“No, I got it,” Patrick said, determined to do something himself and awkwardly climbed out of the car as best he could without the use of his arms. 

“Okay, baby, let’s go,” David said again, walking carefully alongside Patrick through the parking lot. 

Walking into the ER, Patrick was overwhelmed by the smell of disinfectant and rubbing alcohol and inadvertently made a face at the unpleasant scent. 

“You sit here,” David started. “I’m going to go get the paperwork to check you in.” 

Patrick nodded, thankful that David was there to take care of him. He took a seat in the waiting room chair and leaned his head back.  _ What a stupid thing to have done _ , he thought. He glanced around the rest of the room at any others waiting. He was glad to see only three other people in the room. Maybe he wouldn’t have to wait long. 

“All checked in,” David said, taking the seat next to Patrick. 

“Don’t you usually have to fill out a form or something?” Patrick asked. 

David smiled warmly, secretly thankful that Patrick had made them memorize each other’s personal information. “I filled it out at the desk so no one could get ahead of us in line,” he admitted. 

“Did they say how long it would be?” Patrick asked hopefully. 

“She refused to give an answer,” David grimaced. “There aren’t many people here though. So hopefully soon?” he tried to keep Patrick’s spirits up. 

Patrick leaned his head on David’s shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted. David reached his hand over to Patrick’s head and gently ran his fingers through Patrick’s hair, hoping the gesture would help soothe him. 

He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but in David’s mind it was far too long before he heard a nurse come out and say sweetly, “Patrick Brewer.” 

“That’s us!” David called, rousing Patrick from his fitful rest. 

“Honey, we gotta go,” David said softly, rubbing Patrick’s back. 

David helped Patrick stand up and walk to where the nurse was standing. “He can come in too, right?” Patrick asked, worry clearly edging his voice. “He’s my husband,” he explained quickly. 

“Of course,” she smiled. “Right this way,” she gestured to a large door and opened it for them to walk through. 

“We’re going right through here,” she said, opening a door that revealed a small exam room with a couple chairs like those from the waiting room and an exam table. 

Patrick nodded and took a seat, David following his lead. 

“Actually, if I could have you sit here, Mr. Brewer,” the nurse said not unkindly, pointing to the exam table. 

“Oh, right,” Patrick tried his best to get on the exam table with minimal jostling of his arm, but winced as he sat down harsher than he meant. 

“So what brings you in today?” 

Patrick made a face as if it were obvious why. “Uh, well, I broke my arm, I think.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Can you tell me what happened and where it hurts?” she asked, making notes on a clipboard. 

“My forearm hurts like hell,” Patrick grimaced. “I can’t move it.” 

“Okay, and how did this happen?” 

Patrick turned his head to glance at David who was smirking. “I fell off of our garage roof,” he admitted sheepishly. “And into a raspberry bush.”

The nurse tried to stifle a laugh. “What were you doing up there?” 

“Cleaning the gutters,” David interjected. “When I told him not to!”

“Ah, I see,” she chuckled softly and continued to write something on her clipboard. “Okay, I’m just going to quickly take your temperature and get your blood pressure and then I can get the doctor in.” 

Patrick nodded just wanting it to be over. He tried to be patient as the nurse stuck a thermometer in his mouth and awkwardly took this blood pressure - the latter being no easy feat since he had to let his broken arm drop in order for her to perform the test on his working arm. 

“I’m really sorry, David,” Patrick said again once the nurse had left. 

“We’re going to talk about this later,” David said matter-of-factly. He didn’t want to give Patrick any false hope that he could get out of this, but now wasn’t the time for David to tell him what he did was wrong. Patrick clearly was paying the price for that now. “But for now, just focus on this, okay?”

Patrick nodded and slumped over as he sat on the exam table. David stood in front of him and put his hand on the back of Patrick’s head, feeding his fingers through Patrick’s hair. 

“What if I need surgery?” Patrick asked quietly. 

“Then you’ll have surgery,” David replied gently. 

Patrick let out a shaky breath. “I’ve never had surgery before,” Patrick admitted. 

It was all David could do to not wrap Patrick in his arms in a warm comforting hug. Instead, he tried, “Before you start worrying about that, let’s just wait and hear what the doctor says, okay?”

Patrick feebly nodded in response, but couldn’t shake the thought. His wisdom teeth coming out was the closest thing he’d ever had to surgery and that barely seemed like a close comparison. 

“Mr. Brewer,” the doctor said, opening the door. “It says here you may have a broken arm,” she smiled, looking at her clipboard. The nurse followed closely behind her. 

David backed off from where he was standing and returned to his seat. 

“I’m just going to take your arm and feel if there are any particularly tender areas, okay?” she said, putting gloves on. 

Patrick nodded and let her take his arm. She pressed gently around on his forearm telling the nurse what to make note of and seemingly ignoring Patrick’s pained expression, but asking him questions along the way. She then asked him to move his fingers and checked the pulse on his wrist.

“So it seems to me that you probably have a fracture in your ulna and most likely your radius too, but I can’t be sure until we take some x-rays.”

Patrick nodded trying to take in the information. “Can I get something for the pain?”

“If you haven’t taken anything else, Angela is going to bring you some medicine for that, okay?” 

“Okay, thanks,” Patrick grimaced.

“I’m going to have Angela here take you to get your x-ray done and then I’ll meet you back in here once I’ve had a chance to look at them. Sound good?” she asked, as if Patrick had much of a choice. 

“Um, yeah,” he said, glancing at David who was sitting at the edge of his seat. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes to collect you,” Angela said as the doctor exited the room. 

David took out his phone and immediately started Googling the words the doctor had used in her exam. “Well, it doesn’t sound too terrible,” he said, trying not to let his face show that Patrick would most likely need surgery. 

“What does it say?” Patrick asked against his better judgment. 

“That you’ll live to tell this tale,” David smirked. 

“David,” Patrick moaned. 

“It just says that forearm fractures are common for falls from a significant height,” David tried to pass it off. 

Patrick kicked his foot against the side of the exam table. “Yeah,” was all he could think to say. 

“I can take you now to get some x-rays done, Mr. Brewer,” Angela the nurse returned suddenly in the exam room. “But take this first,” she said, handing him a small paper cup with a round white pill in it and a paper cup of water. 

“All the water,” she said when Patrick tried to hand back the half full cup. 

Gulping it down, he glanced at David. 

“I’ll be here when you come back,” David reassured him. 

Patrick nodded and put on a smile for the nurse. “Thanks,” he said, hopping off of the exam table and following behind her. David could hear Patrick’s laugh in the distance as they walked away and he hoped it was a sincere laugh, not one he was putting on for others. 

David tried to distract himself on his phone while he waited yet again for something to happen in apparently the slowest hospital on the planet. But finally, the door opened and Patrick walked through it with what looked like a temporary sling around his arm. 

“I’ll be back in with the doctor soon,” he heard the nurse say as she walked away. 

“Well, you survived that part,” David tried to keep his voice light. 

“Now just this other part,” Patrick groaned, returning to his spot on the exam table. 

David stood next to Patrick again and returned his hand to the back of Patrick’s head. “Is the medicine helping at all?” David asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, they give you the good stuff here,” Patrick grinned, his head dropping as David’s fingers wove their way through his hair.

David smiled, genuinely glad that he wasn’t in pain anymore. 

“Well, Mr. Brewer, I’ve got some good news for you,” the doctor said, walking into the exam room. She held up the x-ray to the light and pointed out the fracture. “It looks like you somehow miraculously only broke the ulna and it’s a fairly clean break. That means that for right now, I don’t believe surgery is going to be required, but I’m going to have you follow up with an orthopedic surgeon to verify this.”

David could see the sense of relief that came over Patrick as the doctor was speaking. 

“What that does mean, however, is that I am going to have to perform what’s called a fracture reduction. You probably know it better as setting the bone.” 

Patrick took in a sharp breath and nodded. “Okay,” he finally said. 

“I’m going to administer a hematoma block first that will help numb the pain,” she explained gently. “Once that’s done, I can set it and we can get you in a cast.” 

He took in a few sharp breaths before saying, “Okay,” again. 

Angela had been waiting behind the doctor with a tray that she set on the small table beside the exam table. 

“I also noticed another scrape along your other wrist,” the doctor continued. “Is that from the fall too?”

“Uh, it must be,” Patrick said, glancing down. He hadn’t even noticed it before, but there it was, a jagged cut on his other forearm. “I think I caught it on the edge of the gutter,” he said, suddenly remembering. 

“Okay, I’m going to have Angela disinfect and bandage that when I’m done. I’m also going to administer a tetanus booster in case.” 

David shivered at the thought of so many needles, but was trying his best to stay calm for Patrick. But as soon as the doctor brought out the large needle needed for the hematoma block, his eyes widened and he was fairly sure he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it from Patrick. 

“I’m going to have you lie back and put your arm flat on the table like this,” she motioned with her arm. 

Patrick swallowed and did as he was told. A new wave of rubbing alcohol overtook the small area as the doctor swabbed over Patrick’s arm preparing for the injection and inserted the needle into the affected area. 

David watched with concern as Patrick was clearly gritting his teeth in pain while the doctor poked around in his arm to find the hematoma. Upon finding it, she slowly injected the contents of the syringe into Patrick’s arm. 

“That was the hard part,” she smiled, removing the needle. 

“Thank god,” Patrick breathed. 

“That has to sit for five to ten minutes,” she said. “In the meantime, Angela is going to patch this up and I’ll be back with a tetanus shot.” 

The nurse took the small rolling stool out from under the desk and put on gloves again. “Feeling alright, Mr. Brewer?” she asked sincerely. 

“You can call me Patrick,” he answered. 

“Okay, Patrick,” she said and didn’t press when it seemed like he wasn’t answering the question. 

“How  _ are _ you feeling, Patrick?” David asked while the nurse disinfected the cut. 

“Better now,” Patrick tried to pass it off. “Glad I don’t need surgery.” 

“Hopefully, that remains the case when you see the surgeon,” the nurse reminded him. 

“Yeah, true,” his face fell. 

The nurse tossed the gauze and paper wrappings in the trash and stood from the stool as the doctor re-entered the exam room, another syringe and bottle in her hand. 

“It’s been about seven minutes,” she said, checking her watch. “I’m going to administer this and then we’ll try reducing that fracture.” 

Patrick nodded and sat up as she readied the vaccine and the injection site. 

“That was a lot easier than the other one,” Patrick said, grateful that it wasn’t as painful as the hematoma block. 

“I told you,” she smirked. 

She glanced around the room quickly and seemed to be trying to decide something. 

“You know what, Mr. Brewer,” she started, examining the x-ray once more. “I think what I’m going to have you do is come with me down the hall to a different room that has a fluoroscopy. It’s just going to ensure that I get this bone set correctly the first time. Then we can get you set in a cast and on your way.” 

Patrick glanced nervously at David, but nodded his head anyway. He plastered a smile on his face, “Whatever you think is best.” He got off the table and followed the doctor out of the room while the nurse stayed behind to remove the vials and took the tray with her. 

“They should be back soon,” Angela said and left the door to close behind her. 

David once again found himself alone and waiting for Patrick to return. He tried to pass the time scrolling through the news, but eventually settled on streaming  _ Notting Hill _ while he waited. 

Just as David had finally lost track of time and gotten into the film, the door opened again with a sheepish Patrick emerging from behind it, a navy blue covered cast on his arm.

“We’ve gone over care instructions while we put the cast on,” Angela told David and handed him a sheet of paper with the care instructions clearly outlined. “And I’ve advised Mr. Brewer here to stay off roofs.” 

“That’s just good life advice,” David said dryly, eyeing Patrick. 

“The most important thing to remember is to keep the cast dry and to follow up with the surgeon in three to four days,” Angela continued. “And make sure you’re following these instructions,” she said pointedly to Patrick. 

“I don’t think I have any other option,” Patrick said with a crooked grin, still holding his arm even with the cast. 

“If you have everything, I can walk you out,” Angela said. David looked around the room one last time and followed closely behind Patrick. 

David rubbed his hand gently along Patrick’s shoulders as they walked back to the car, trying his best not to make Patrick feel worse about the situation. 

“Okay, let me have it,” Patrick groaned as he buckled his seat belt. “You’re upset. I can tell.”

David turned to face him. “I’m not upset,” he promised. “Well, I am upset, but I just wish you would have listened to me instead of trying to do something you clearly knew was not okay.”

Patrick’s mouth twitched. “I know.” 

“I’m upset that this happened because it could have been so much worse,” David continued gently. “I don’t even want to think about what could have happened.” 

“You’re right. It was stupid.” 

“Hmm,” David hummed. “Well, I can’t argue with that.” He reached over and pulled Patrick towards him, kissing him softly on the side of his head.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr where I don't know wtf I'm doing: @moirasrosesroses


End file.
